Global skylines are rising - but not all are happy

Recently in Istanbul, massive public demonstrations were sparked by plans for building development in a favourite city park - and popular opinion holds that a set of new tower blocks has ruined a view of the ancient Hagia Sophia, which had remained unchanged for centuries.

But many greet sensational additions to their city's skyline with delight. So what is it with spectacular new buildings in places normally known for more traditional architecture? Are they sources of pride, or reasons for riot? Are they scandalous scars on the face of a city, or do we sometimes forget that the buildings we now lump together as "old" were sometimes built centuries apart, and that individuals among them, when new, may have met with just such outrage?

From Lego blocks to the Carlsberg logo, from Bang & Olufsen electronic equipment to Arne Jacobsen chairs, Danish design has long been making an impact. Architecture, too. The Sydney Opera House, surely one of the most recognisable buildings in the world, is by a Danish architect. And Copenhagen, famed for the charm of its brightly coloured waterside buildings, has a cluster of stunning contemporary additions to its cityscape.

On a sunny day, the polished granite cladding of the Royal Danish Library, known as the "Black Diamond", reflects ripples in the harbour waters alongside, like a giant vertical sheet of oil. Its hard-edged, trapezoid shape stands out sharply against a historic backdrop.

Although the Black Diamond created some mutters when it was built at the turn of this century, it's now a firm city favourite, as a nickname often indicates. East of the city centre, the black-and-white-flecked Bella Sky Comwell hotel, with its tilting towers and zany angles, makes an even stronger impact. "Danish architecture is of high quality, but often understated," says Copenhagen resident Carsten Magnus Haandbæk.

"It rarely challenges the viewer, but the Black Diamond and Bella Cloud are real exceptions."

This spring, 3XN (the architects behind Bella Cloud) added another eye-catcher to the Copenhagen skyline - a glinting metallic, whorl-shaped aquarium, Den Blå Planet, The Blue Planet. "It's amazing, like a spaceship just landed by the sea," says one impressed visitor waiting in the queue to get in.

Development around former dockland has brought a dash of bravura architecture to Amsterdam, a Dutch city better known for its low-rise brick façades and dinky decorative gables. First off the mark was Renzo Piano's copper-clad NEMO building (a science museum), thrusting into the eastern docklands like a giant ocean liner. The newest arrival is the EYE, an aerodynamic zigzag that is the home to Amsterdam's world-renowned Film Museum. Locals have welcomed both with delight - NEMO is already something of a city icon, and the EYE has become a hip hangout.

Indeed, the way that people use a building can often be a more eloquent statement of how they have taken it to heart than any grand pronouncements of aesthetic value. "What strikes me most about the JKK centre is the amazing cafe and common areas, where people from all walks of life share the cultural melting-pot ambience," says NGO worker Ian Forber-Pratt, about the Jawahar Kala Kendra arts centre in the Indian city of Jaipur.